


my lovers a serial killer

by Ganine



Category: Persona 3, Persona Series
Genre: Angst, Assassins & Hitmen, Bad Ending, F/M, Hurt No Comfort, bestie come here i did a thing, idk this song just hits different, inspired by bestie, no beta we die like shinji
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 02:55:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29753016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ganine/pseuds/Ganine
Summary: but she don't need no trigger.
Relationships: Arisato Minato/Kirijo Mitsuru
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	my lovers a serial killer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ravenoftheskyes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravenoftheskyes/gifts).



> [cause i know she's heartless](https://youtu.be/QaQJm0WI4dE)  
> but she stole my heart its true

“So,” he says, almost absentmindedly in a feeble attempt to hide his true feelings. He doesn’t meet her stare, he looks up at the dull sky threatening to rain down and collapse on them, perhaps he’s muttering silent curses at whatever higher being had put them here. “Is this really how it ends?”

The gun rests in his hand idly, index wavering on the side of the trigger. She was no better off, she assumed, her own firearm gripped in her hand. Oh, how the mighty fall in such disgraceful manners. There were no options for them, it was either one or the other. Maybe in another life, she fights him on this dreadful decision, that she is not so willing to give him up just like that. 

But, people depend on her, on him, on them. They both always had this unspoken agreement that, if worse came to fruit, they would do what needed to be done. It was what both of them had known for as long as they lived, it was what would overpower and dismantle everything they had sought: survival. 

She swallows, hard. “Yes, I suppose it is.” Tightly, he nods, like he did whenever she told him of their new objective, of whenever a blood debt had to be collected by them. 

“There’s no fighting our way out of this one, is there?” 

She whispers, “No, my love. There is not.” One of them had to die, or else everyone did in their stead. 

He never takes his eyes off the gloomy sky. “In my head, I liked to imagine I would die under the stars. That I would die in sync with a star shining its last flame along with my life,” he returns his gaze downwards, cocking the handgun. “Instead, I die under the cold sky.” 

Always the poet, even in death. He had made his mind, easily, as did she. It was real, she hoped, the way they fought together, loved together, burned together. Yet, bitterly, all flames must go out. Maybe they should have carried out those deeds they were paid to do all those years ago, maybe she should have slipped that poison in his drink, maybe he should’ve taken that shot when his gun was trained on her, it would’ve made everything far easier. 

They were bound to fall apart, tear at their weakly woven seams, like Romeo and Juliet. 

The only difference was, they didn’t love each other near as much. But they tried, they certainly tried, and as she, in turn, cocks her own gun, she hopes that will be enough to put her at ease. 

“Do you think we ever could have worked?” She raised her weapon, aiming at his figure. 

He raised his own in tune with her, “Maybe in a different life.” 

She mutters it, speaking it into existence, “Maybe.” Both of their hands are steady as the shot rings out, a tense silence passing as the steam from their weapons whisps away, leaving two individuals standing before one stumbles, their gun dropping towards the ground in sync with themselves. 

Death sounded much more beautiful when it overpowered the sound of her heart breaking. She dropped her own gun, rushing towards him as the blood pooled under Minato. Delicately, through her blood-slicked hands, she cradled him. 

Minato rasps something through his blood-smeared teeth, the vile color staining his pearly whites. “You were––” he struggles. “––always the better shot.” 

A tear slips, rolling down her cheek. “I learned only from the best,” 

He gives her that rare, trademark smile before his chest rises and falls, and it does not rise again. His eyes, blank, stare at the sky, unblinking. He was gone. And he left behind her, and her family, and the kin of his own. She brings his forehead to hers one last time, simply to solidify that she could, indeed, not feel him anymore. 

He deserved so much more. He deserves a funeral, his sister deserves a body to bring home, to identify, to dress, and bury. She’s afraid she will be unable to give them that closure as she struck the match, throwing it onto the building, the flames dancing reflected in her eyes. She couldn’t give him the death under the stars, however, she hoped burning like one will have to suffice. 

**Author's Note:**

> [read besties fic i based this off or die](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26527219)


End file.
